


Underneath Your Clothes

by thecarlysutra



Category: Thunderheart (1992)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-07
Updated: 2012-09-07
Packaged: 2017-11-13 18:43:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecarlysutra/pseuds/thecarlysutra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SUMMARY: <i>There’s the man I chose, there’s my territory.</i> Takes place many years past the timeline of the movie. For <b>cottoncandy_bingo</b> prompt <i>body image</i>. Title and summary from Shakira’s song <i>Underneath Your Clothes</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Underneath Your Clothes

  
Crow Horse walked into the bedroom to find Ray studying his reflection in the mirror, which was almost always a bad thing. He did it when he got back from undercover jobs, months living as someone else, needing to find himself again. And he did it when he got hurt on the job, studying the black eye or broken nose that changed the plane of his face. Crow Horse didn’t know what the matter was this time, but he walked in careful-like.

Ray caught Walter in the mirror and turned briefly.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey there, honey,” Crow Horse said. He squinted slightly, but couldn’t see anything wrong with Ray on the surface. “Everything okay?”

Ray’s face fell, and he turned back to the mirror. 

“Went to the doctor today,” he muttered.

Crow Horse’s heart raced. He tried to read Ray’s expression in the mirror, but he just looked like a dog been kicked—not scared or worried or nothing like that, just wallowing in abject misery. 

“Doc didn’t find nothing wrong, did he?” Crow Horse asked.

Ray’s mouth curved into an ‘o,’ and the tension in his brow eased a little—apology. “Oh, no, nothing like that—just my yearly.”

Crow Horse closed the distance between them, so that his front was flush with Ray’s back. He rested his hands on Ray’s hips, then slid them over his belly ’til they met in the middle, clasping over Ray’s navel. 

“What’s the problem, then?” Crow Horse asked.

He studied Ray’s face in the mirror. He looked like a kicked dog again.

“I gained ten pounds since last year.”

Crow Horse was so relieved he laughed. This was not the correct response; Ray’s brow pinched in annoyance, and he squirmed in Crow Horse’s grasp. Crow Horse held firm ’til Ray settled down, kissing his cheekbone and temple and murmuring formless horse-taming noises against his ear.

“You did turn forty couple months ago,” Crow Horse said once Ray quit bucking.

“And apparently I gained ten pounds _immediately_ ,” Ray pouted. “I haven’t changed anything—diet, exercise, nothing.”

“But you’re getting older.”

“And fatter.”

“Hey, now. I’m not gonna stand here and let you talk that nonsense about my boy.”

Crow Horse watched Ray’s ample mouth twist into a moue, and forced himself not to laugh. It was rough going.

“I’m not a boy anymore. I’m an old man who weighs 185 pounds, and soon I’m going to need bifocals and a hearing aid.”

That was too much; Crow Horse laughed again. Ray sighed and tried to push him off, but Crow Horse could be quick when he wanted, and he grabbed Ray tight around the middle and pulled him back into a secure hug. 

“Well,” Crow Horse purred, “I still think you’re pretty hot stuff, old man.”

Ray laughed. Crow Horse used one hand to turn Ray’s face towards him, and then he kissed him until Ray started kissing him back. Crow Horse pulled Ray away from the mirror, moving them toward the bed until Ray’s legs hit the mattress. Ray crawled onto the bed, pulling Crow Horse after him. They lost their clothes slowly along the way, and Crow Horse pushed Ray back into the pillows and took a good look at him, all 185 pounds worth. After all these years, and everything that had happened along the way, Ray still took his breath away.

The mirror shined at the corner of Crow Horse’s eye, and he looked briefly back at his own reflection. He’d picked up some pounds himself since he and Ray’d met, and he was getting gray as an old mule. For a brief, ticklish moment, the question formed on his tongue: _And what about you, Little Weasel? Do you still want all this?_ But then he looked back at Ray, and Crow Horse knew, from the way Ray looked at him, what the answer was. He pressed Ray into the pillows, and kissed him deep.  



End file.
